


Lonely in the Woods

by pavlablack



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Character Death, Community: rs_games, M/M, Minor Violence, Sexual Content, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-21
Updated: 2012-12-21
Packaged: 2017-11-21 21:14:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/602152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pavlablack/pseuds/pavlablack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remus returns to the abandoned cabin where he first met Sirius Black.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lonely in the Woods

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2012 Remus/Sirius Games.  
> Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to JKR, not me. No copyright infringement intended.

The cabin where Remus and Sirius once lived sits lonely in the woods. No smoke travels up its chimney. The scent of freshly baked pumpkin pie does not waft from its kitchen window to tempt passersby into stopping, if there were ever any passersby. Visitors do not dust their snow-covered boots off at the door because there are no visitors and haven't been for a very long time.

***

But Remus allows himself to visit once a year, to remember. To come more often would be too difficult, as he can barely afford to keep up his own tiny flat in London, let alone maintain a cabin with pipes that burst the winter after Sirius died and caused damage that was never fully repaired. The once beautifully polished wood floors have warped, and the pages of Sirius's favorite books are swollen and stained on the shelves. Everything looks like a reflection from a Muggle funhouse mirror, familiar yet distorted—the way Remus's entire life looks, without Sirius to bring it into focus.

He squeezes his eyes shut once to readjust before hanging his cloak by the door and rubbing his hands together to warm them. It is the first snow of winter, and though he could have Apparated or used the Floo, taking the long journey through the woods is part of the ritual. So is building a fire by hand, even though his joints ache with cold and effort by the time he finally strikes a spark. He pushes himself up from the hearth and walks over to the bookcase, running his hand along the spines as if deciding which one to choose. But his fingers always pull out the same volume, a leather-bound book of Muggle fairy tales. He flips it open and reads the inscription inside:

_Sirius,_

_These are shite compared to_ The Tales of Beadle the Bard _, but I thought you might be interested in seeing what the Muggles read. I've put a concealment charm on the cover so that Dark Wizards with No Sense of Humor (your parents) will think you are reading something called_ Muggles, Mudbloods, and Mayhem: A Primer for Pure-blood Children. _Don't get caught._

_Love, Uncle Alphard_

Remus gives up trying to smooth down the wavy pages and carries the book to Sirius's favorite armchair. The book and the chair smell overwhelmingly of mold, and Remus knows that being here is bad for his health, that losing himself in his and Sirius's story once again is bad for his health, but he does not care. This is where he must be, because this is where it all began.

***

It started as such stories often do, with a warning.

"Keep the door locked, love. Don't open it for anyone but us. We'll be back in a few hours." Remus's mum kissed him on the forehead before standing up and turning to his dad. "Are you sure we shouldn't take him with us?"

"He'll be fine. Won't you, son?" his dad said, mussing Remus's hair.

Remus nodded and put on a brave smile, even though he was scared. Not so much of the werewolves that had been attacking the villagers (though they did scare him a little bit), but of the other thing he had heard his parents whispering about late last night: Grandmum was sick.

"We'll give Grandmum your love, okay? And maybe you can come with us next time." His mother kissed him again before she left, but she wouldn't look him in the eye.

Time always went faster when he got lost in a story, so Remus went to his room and hopped onto his bed to finish the one he had started last night, a story about a girl who gets to go off on her own for the first time. It made him think of Grandmum and how his parents had promised him that when he turned five they would let him make the short walk to her house by himself. But he had turned five almost a year ago, and they still hadn't let him.

Remus didn't like the way the story ended. The girl was dumb and got tricked by a wolf and she and her grandmother got eaten.

Grandmum hadn't been attacked by a werewolf, had she? Was that why Mum and Dad wouldn't let him go see her? What if they got attacked too and never came home?

Remus was scared of the werewolves but more scared of not knowing, so he pulled on his cloak and closed the door behind him. It was nighttime but the full moon cast enough light over the forest that Remus could see where he was going without a lantern. It was only a five-minute walk to Grandmum's. He had taken it plenty of times with his parents.

He didn't stray from the path like the girl in the story had, though he did stop once to retie his shoe, and that was when Greyback approached him.

"Thought I smelled fresh meat," the man snarled, lifting a long, filthy fingernail to pick his teeth, and Remus, who was smarter than the girl, remembered his mother's warning about strangers and ran.

He could just see his grandmother's cabin peeking out from behind a row of trees when his untied shoe fell off. Snow seeped through his sock, stinging his foot with cold, and his ankle twisted painfully, but he limped forward, determined.

"Mum! Dad!" His heart swelled with relief when his grandmother's front door swung open and his father stepped out onto the porch, looking surprised and confused. Remus knew he was going to be in trouble for disobeying his parents, but that was okay. He was safe now.

"Remus!" Something wasn't right about Dad's voice, and his eyes were wide with fear. He looked not at Remus but at something behind him.

Remus turned to see what it was but only caught a huge grey blur that slammed him onto the ground and sank its teeth into his shoulder. Nothing had ever hurt more, not even his arm that time he fell out of a tree and broke it. And he couldn't scream because he had the wind knocked out of him now too, and the wolf was pressing down on his chest and suffocating him.

Remus saw the blood staining the snow beside him. He knew he was going to die, and maybe his dad and mum and grandmum were going to die too, and it was all his fault.

***

Remus hears a rustling that is too far away to be the page he has turned without reading, but he suspects it is just the Doxies that have taken over the dusty curtains of the house. He hears a thumping that could be his heart but is more likely a Boggart living in the cupboard that once held Sirius's clothes, taunting him. Remus doesn't have the energy to combat the Doxies or the courage to face the Boggart. He knows what his worst fear is because it has already happened. Sirius is dead.

He turns to the book and tries to read the story but can't focus. Uncle Alphard was right. It's rubbish.

Remus closes the book and closes his eyes and goes back to the first time he met Sirius Black.

***

The full moon shone overhead, day-old snow crunching beneath his paws as he prowled the woods in the early morning hours. He pressed his nose to the icy ground, catching the scent of _human_ blood trapped within muscle and sinew and bone. He stiffened when he heard a rustling in the trees. The smell was stronger now, and he could almost taste it. Fear.

So it wasn't a hunter, then.

No, not a hunter but a small girl, who had turned when she heard him approach and now stood frozen in front of him. She took a step backward as Remus let out a low growl and edged closer. His heart quickened and saliva dripped down his muzzle. He had never tasted human blood, not even the half-human blood of a centaur. It had a sweeter, more complex smell than that of the deer he usually hunted. Something buried deep in the back of his mind willed him to leave the girl and find other, more familiar prey, but his senses were alive with anticipation, so when the girl turned to run, he launched himself at her.

He was leaping through the air, jaws open and ready to strike, when something sharp flew into his side and dropped him to the ground. He howled in pain and frustration.

And then something else was wrong. Remus searched the sky for the full moon but was met with sunrise instead, and his eyes rolled back into his head as he felt the familiar pain of transformation. He writhed and let out a half-animal, half-human howl as his paws shifted into hands and feet, his snout shortened into a nose, and canine teeth became human. And then he wasn't howling anymore but shivering, as the knowledge that he had almost killed someone burned into his brain and hurt more than the cold that bit into his naked skin and the arrow that still pierced his side. He felt as paralysed with pain and guilt as that night he was bitten long ago.

Only this time, he was glad that the blood discoloring the snow was his own. And this time, the strong arms that gathered him up and carried him inside were not his father's, but those of a handsome young man with conflicted grey eyes that saw not a boy turned into a wolf, but a wolf turned back into a man.

When Remus awoke, he was clothed and lying on something much softer and warmer than the forest floor. The smell of chocolate permeated his nostrils. He wondered for a moment if last night had been a dream, but the ache in his side and the ropes binding him to the bed told him otherwise. And, he realised when he opened his eyes, he was in Grandmum's old cabin.

A dark-haired man sat down on the edge of the bed. "Sorry about the ropes," he said in a gruff voice. "Had to make it look good, and I also didn't want you to get up and hurt yourself." He held a steaming mug to Remus's lips. "Here. Drink."

Remus's mouth watered but he hesitated. Should he trust someone who just admitted to tying him up, who could have been the one who shot him for all he knew? He let his eyes wander down to the man's hands. They looked strong and calloused. They could be the hands of a hunter. But then Remus searched the man's face, and his eyes seemed apologetic and kind.

"Who are you?" Remus asked, after taking a sip of hot chocolate. "And what do you mean, you had to make it look good?"

"In case they came back looking for you. I was going to pose as a Grabber, or whatever it is they call those people who hunt down so-called Mudbloods and half-breeds." It was clear from the way the man spoke that his distaste was for the words rather than the people they described. "But I don't think they will. They took off when I . . . shot you. Guess they thought the job was done."

"So you were the one. Why?" But Remus thought he knew the answer.

"I was out hunting—game, not people!—and saw you going for that little girl and I just reacted. Of course, now that I think about it, I suppose I could have used a Stunning Spell."

"Yeah." Remus shot the man a glare. "That would have been good."

"Sorry. I'm sure it hurts like hell, but I've kept an eye on the wound, and it really does seem to be getting better. And to answer your other question, my name's Sirius Black."

The surname was familiar. Remus was trying to recall where he had heard it when Sirius set the mug on the windowsill and pulled out a wand, pointing it at Remus.

"Sorry," Sirius said as Remus flinched. He dropped the wand to his lap. "I was only going to undo your bindings. Okay?"

"Okay."

Sirius raised the wand again and this time completed the spell. The ropes loosened and fell to the floor.

Remus rubbed his wrists, and Sirius grabbed the mug from the windowsill to hold it to his lips again. "Thanks," Remus said, taking another drink. "But I think I can take it from here."

"Oh. Of course." Sirius handed the mug to Remus and their fingers brushed, sending a jolt through Remus's fingertips and down to the bottom of his toes. "I guess I just got used to doing things for you, the last couple of days."

Something stirred in Remus's memory. A husky voice made soft with worry, whispering reassurances as calloused hands smoothed his hair back from his forehead and forced a hot drink to his lips. Those same hands rubbing something soothing into his skin and applying a fresh bandage before pulling a blanket up around him.

"I was out for two days?" Remus set down the mug and tried to stand, but Sirius was still sitting on top of the covers.

"More or less." Sirius got up and moved into the kitchen, so Remus stood up too. "Which probably means you're hungry."

The mention of hunger brought Remus back to the memory of the girl in the forest. "Oh, Merlin," he said, suddenly feeling dizzy. "I almost killed someone."

Sirius was back at his side in an instant. "No, Remus, it wasn't your fault." He reached out to steady him.

Remus stumbled backward and reached for his wand, but his pockets were empty. "How do you know my name?" He searched the room for a weapon and his eyes landed on the andiron. Maybe he could get close enough to grab something to defend himself.

Sirius pulled out his wand and handed it to Remus with a wry smile. "I wouldn't trust me either. But if I was going to hurt you, I would have done it while you were unconscious. Or just let whoever it was take you like they wanted." He sat down on the bed and waited for Remus to do the same. "That's how I knew your name. I heard them talking about you. They've been tracking you for a while and knew this was your Grandmum's old cabin and that you often came back here. The girl was some poor Muggle they kidnapped and set loose in the woods. Guess they were hoping to kill two birds with one stone—rid the world of one more Muggle and have something to use against you."

Remus took a deep breath. "I still don't understand. If you're not one of them, what were you doing here?"

Sirius let out a bark of laughter. "Squatting. My family tossed me out."

Suddenly Remus remembered where he had heard the name Black. "Is your family—"

"Yes," Sirius hissed, though his anger didn't seem to be directed towards Remus. "Told them I couldn't stand any more of their pure-blood mania and they disowned me. I've just been staying here a few days until I figure things out."

Remus glanced around the room. When Grandmum had died, Mum had stripped the place of everything but the tattered furniture and the window dressings, taking Grandmum's quilts and china and books. But now, in place of the threadbare curtains, new drapes were pulled back to let the sun through. Clothes spilled out of drawers, books lined the shelves, and, Remus realised now, luxurious-feeling sheets covered the bed. Remus gave Sirius a questioning look.

"Okay, more like a few weeks." Sirius shrugged cheerfully. "It's a great place though—loads more homey than that crypt I grew up in." He stood up and went back into the kitchen, pulling out a pan from underneath the stove and a carton of eggs and packet of bacon from the refrigerator. He went to work at the stove, humming a tune as the bacon sizzled in the pan.

"Why don't you make yourself at home?" Remus asked. He meant it as a joke, but part of him realised, even then, that it was also an invitation.

"Don't mind if I do."

***

Remus smiles at the memory. He can almost smell the bacon cooking, can almost see Sirius standing there at the stove. But when he opens his eyes, he's alone, and the room is as musty as ever.

He stands up and the book falls to the floor. When he bends down to pick it up, he feels a slight twinge and he remembers what Sirius said the last time his back went out: "When I said I wanted us to grow old together, I didn't mean just yet, Remus." He carries the book with him to the bed and thinks back to the night Sirius became more than a houseguest.

***

"So," Sirius said, raising his glass of Firewhiskey and clinking it against Remus's. "It's been fun."

"Yeah. Especially the part when you shot me." Remus tried to give Sirius a dirty look but got lost in those steely grey eyes. Again. He downed his drink and poured himself another one, nearly toppling the bottle as he set it back on the table.

Sirius reached out to right it and his hand settled over Remus's. "Careful. And hey, how many times are you going to make me apologise?"

"As many times as it takes," Remus said throatily, letting his fingers intertwine with Sirius's. And just like that first night, he felt a jolt of electricity surge throughout his body, magnified now by all the nights he'd dreamt of taking Sirius to bed.

"Remus—" Sirius gave him a questioning look but didn't unlink their hands.

"Sirius." _Let go,_ Remus told himself. _Just let go._ He was well enough now to go home, and Sirius had gotten himself a spot in Auror training thanks to his friend James. Whom Remus had never met. Remus had never met any of Sirius's friends, and Sirius had never met Remus's family. All they shared was trapped within the walls of this cabin that had long been forgotten and was about to be forgotten again.

"Fuck," Remus said, kicking his chair out behind him and pulling Sirius up by the hand. "I don't want this to end." 

"Nor do I," Sirius said, taking Remus's face in his hands and crushing their lips together. 

They fell onto the table. 

"Merlin, this is uncomfortable," Sirius said, landing atop Remus and laughing. 

"Shall we go to bed?" Remus kissed Sirius again and thanked the gods for Firewhiskey because how else would those words have passed his lips? 

"Definitely." Sirius bit his lip and ground their hips together. Just as Remus thought the table had some interesting possibilities, Sirus hopped back to the floor and practically dragged him to the bed. 

"Ow!" Remus said as they landed on the mattress and something sharp dug into his side. He pulled an open book out from under the covers. "Little Red Riding Hood. I know this one." 

"It's shite," Sirius said, trailing kisses down his neck. 

"My, what big teeth you—oh fuck," he said, dropping the book as Sirius pressed a hand between his legs. 

"All the better to eat you with." Sirius growled and set the book on the nightstand. He settled his body against Remus's, sighing into his ear. 

Remus's breath quickened. He half expected Sirius to quote another line from the story, so he beat him to the punch. "What cold feet you have," he said, brushing his foot against Sirius's. It was both a joke and a question. 

Sirius answered with a whisper. "My uncle gave me that book. He was the only person in the world to accept me besides my friends. Until you." 

Remus's eyes blurred. He pressed their foreheads together. "I read that story the night I was bitten, the same night my Grandmum died." 

They pulled apart just long enough to look each other in the eye. They didn't say anything else. They didn't need to. It was just the beginning of their story, and they had all the time in the world to tell it. 

***

Remus lays the book aside. He doesn't need to read the story again. He's read it plenty of times. There are some versions where the wolf wins, and others where the humans outsmart the wolf. But someone always has to lose. 

He smoothes down the covers and takes one last look at the cabin before closing the door behind him. 

He doesn't have to wait long. Soon he can smell the stench of death in the air. 

"Fresh meat." 

Remus doesn't even flinch when he hears Greyback's voice, though he does turn around. "You need to come up with a new pickup line. That one's getting old." He inches closer, his body already taking on the posture of the wolf. 

Greyback snickers. "Whatever works." 

"You took something of mine." Remus lowers himself into striking position. 

"That was a long time ago," Greyback answers, picking something out of his teeth. "But I still remember how good he smelled. Didn't scream, which was a little disappointing. Tasted a bit like you. I would have turned him if I could have, but it doesn't work that way with Animagi." Greyback leans forward. "Any last words?" 

Remus feels his body temperature start to rise with the full moon. He pulls Sirius's bow out just in time, sending an arrow into Greyback's chest as Greyback sinks his teeth into Remus's throat and slams him into the snow. 

He pushes the dead weight off and takes one last look at the night sky. He can just make out the Dog Star. 

"Sirius," he whispers, and closes his eyes. 


End file.
